


Keeping Count

by Fearless_leaderr



Series: The Spooky brothers [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ben and Klaus are the best, Brotherly Angst, Drug Addiction, M/M, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fearless_leaderr/pseuds/Fearless_leaderr
Summary: “I’ve been sober for two weeks and four days now. Did you know that?” Klaus asks, staring up at the ceiling.“It’s been two weeks and five days actually,” Ben responds.





	Keeping Count

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, back again because I love these two more than life itself. There's so much I feel like they need to talk about, so I thought, why not? Theres little references to my last fic littered in here, but it's not necessary to read it. Hope you enjoy  
> Also just fixed all the mistake lmao oops :)

The worlds safe for now. They’re all trying to get used to their new bodies, the downside of having the consciousness of seven fucked up adults stuffed into children. Now he understands why five was such an asshole when he came back. In the wake of their newfound second chance, everyone is floundering to adjust. 

Five is keeping Luther busy. Every time he’s in the same room as father he looks like he wants to throw him out the window. Or lay down at his feet and beg him for answers. Fives helped him throw himself into training, giving him a distraction.

Diego has pretty much glued himself to mothers’ side. She was better now, more affectionate that she had been in their adult lives. The first time he had seen her when they came back he had flung himself into her arms, and she had stroked his hair and smiled softly. His stutter came back.

Vanya avoided all of them with the exception of Allison. When she finally woke up, the first thing she had done was tentatively reach out to touch Allison’s throat. When her fingers passed over whole, untarnished skin she had curled in on herself and started crying. Allison told them she heard a rumour they had left the room. They did.

Klaus stuck with Ben. The first time they seen each other, alive and whole, Klaus had pulled Ben into a tight hug. If they had held each other for too long, no one had mentioned. 

On the day they came back, they all agreed not to tell father what the future had held. They knew that he’d figure it out eventually- they were too different, scarred from the trauma of their pasts. However, whilst they were adapting to this new situation they all wanted to do it without interrogation. So, they did what they were asked and made themselves scarce when they could.

That was a fortnight ago. Klaus is lying in his room after a long day of training, trying to sleep. It’s not working, not that he really expected it too. He’s never had the best relationship with sleeping. Sleeping and the wails of the dead don’t go together well. 

There’s a knock at the door: three quiet taps of knuckles against wood. Klaus doesn’t even need to look over to know who it is. He tells his brother to come in.

“I’ve been sober for two weeks and four days now. Did you know that?” Klaus asks as a greating, staring up at the ceiling. He feels better than he has in over a decade. His hands don’t shake. His skin doesn’t itch. He feels great.

He’s still miserable. 

Ben shuts the door behind him and comes into the room, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He fiddles with his hands. He does that a lot, like he’s trying to get used to the fact that he’s alive again. He’s not died yet, in this body. He has another seven years. 

“It’s been two weeks and five days actually,” Ben responds.

Klaus snorts at that, turning his head to the side to observe his brother’s silhouette. Ben was smaller than the rest of them. Tenser. He always curled in on himself like he was trying to hide from the rest of the world. Perhaps he was. Out of all of them, Ben has always been vocal about the fact he hated his ‘power’. When they were younger, he would ask dad why he didn’t get a cool power like the ones Allison or Diego had. Why he couldn’t have it easy like Luther did, or why he didn’t get to be as badass as five.

He never asked father why he couldn’t have powers like Klaus. Klaus hated them as much as Ben hated his own.

When they were ten Ben had a meltdown. He was dripping in blood as a result of a particularly difficult mission, and whilst the tentacles had retreated, the skin beneath his shirt was still moving. It pushed out, causing bumps to appear and then to disappear. It was like the creature was trying to settle, and Ben was an uncomfortable pillow it had to fluff up. 

He had curled in on himself in the hallway whilst father was giving them the rundown of what they had done well, what they hadn’t. They had to listen at these reports, otherwise father got angry. No one liked it when father got angry. So, Klaus had tried his best to subtly get Ben to stand. To help him through this meeting, and then he’d help him later in the privacy of his room. It’s what they always did. 

It’s not what had happened.

What had happened is Ben had started crying. Quiet at first, and then louder. Everyone turned to face him. Father told him to stop crying. Ben keened instead. He raved. He said he hated his powers. He hated the creature. He hated himself. He hated father. He hated his siblings for having powers they could hide. He hated them all for having it easy. He hated that he was number 6, the least useful if you didn’t count Vanya. He hated this house. He hated the fact he was born. 

Father took him out the house that night. He was gone for three days.

When he come back, his smile was plastic and he never mentioned that night again.

Klaus shuddered at the memory, sitting up and crossing his legs. They must be about that age now. He’s not sure if that particular event has happened in this timeline or not before they came. He hopes it hadn’t. He doesn’t want for Ben to have gone through that twice. He wants to protect Ben this time, like Ben’s being doing for him since they where nineteen.

“Oh, is it now. You keeping count?” He says instead. 

Ben is silent for a moment. He’s still facing away, but he’s beginning to uncoil from himself. It’s only a small victory, but Klaus internally celebrates it anyway. 

“I always keep count,” Ben responds. 

He turns then, swinging his legs up onto the bed. They face each other, cross legged and oh so young. Klaus could weep for it. He has, in fact wept many times since they came back. It’s overwhelming. Being young again. Having a second chance. But it’s also terrifying. A large chuck of his life hasn’t technically happened, but he remembers it all. The mausoleum. The drugs. The overdoses. The fear. The war. Dave.

The last one hurts the most. There’s not a lot he’s achieved since being an adult, he’s aware of this, but meeting Dave was one of the best moments his shitty life gave to him. To know he’s never going to be able to see the man again brings a pain which is uncontrollable. He’s sure, if he tried hard enough, he could summon the man. But Dave has never met him in this world, and the only thing that would hurt more than his lover being gone from him is for him not to have a clue who he is. For the second time in his life, he needs to mourn for someone he loves.

“Why’s that? Waiting for me to fuck up again?” Klaus asks tiredly, dropping his head back against the headboard. He’s tired. They all are. Scrambling to make sense of this old yet foreign world. He knows there’s pills in a hollow bottom in his bedside unit. They’re not strong, nothing like things he got used to. But they were the beginning, and they’re sitting a few metres to his left. He’s finding it difficult not to be tempted.

Ben is silent for a moment. His face is carefully blank, like how it is when he’s talking to father. Klaus hates that face. It means that his brother is wanting to say something but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to say it. Ben is allowed to say anything to Klaus, just like the way Klaus is allowed to say anything to Ben. It’s the way they’ve always been.

“Don’t do that,” he adds, annoyed. He doesn’t need to explain what ‘that’ is, he knows Ben will understand.

Ben’s mask crumbles. He looks down at his hands. He’s fidgeting again. Klaus waits him out. There’s another long pause. 

“No, not waiting for you to fuck up. I’m not dad.” Another pause. 

“I…I kept count, because I was scared,” he adds, his gaze lifting to meet Klaus’ eyes. 

Klaus gives him a look imploring him to continue, despite the fact he knows what Ben is going to say. He’s going to say that he was afraid that Klaus overdosed and didn’t wake up. They’ve all said it to him. They’ve all given up saying it. Ben never gave up saying it. 

He doesn’t talk about overdosing.

Instead, Ben’s lip trembles slightly and he drops his gaze. He lifts his hand to his mouth and chews on his thumb.

“Every single day you were high, I was scared you wouldn’t see me anymore and I’d be alone. Dying sucked, but I knew at the very least that’d I’d still have you. So, when I came around after my funeral and you didn’t acknowledge me, I was terrified. I thought I would spend the rest of my existence being stuck here without anyone knowing I was there. But then father put up the statue and you heard me for the first time since I kicked it. And I know there must have been a reason why you could see me and not anyone else, but it was still terrifying. So, I always counted the days when you were sober because I didn’t have to be afraid that your powers didn’t work. And then obviously because I was just so fucking proud that you were able to overcome your addiction. I couldn’t be there for you if you didn’t know I was here.”

It’s the most words his brother has spoken to him since they were children. Ben is crying. So is Klaus. He reaches for the other boy, dragging him up his bed and into his arms. He loves being able to touch Ben now. To bump shoulders with him, to give him a high five, to give him a hug. It’s the little things he always took for granted as a child. Not anymore. Ben grips his t-shirt with his fists, trembling beneath his hands. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about not being able to hear you,” he whispers, pulling back slightly for a moment to wipe away a tear on his brothers’ cheek. He hadn’t thought about it, truth be told. The thought of not being able to see Ben never even crossed his mind, that’s how much it disturbed him.

Ben closes his eyes, leaning into his hand for a moment before dragging his arm across his face, wiping away the rest of the tears. He reaches out, taking hold of Klaus’s wrist. He does that a lot, like he’s trying to get used to the fact he can. 

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you. Actually here.”

“You didn’t ask to die,” Klaus replies, placing a hand on top of the others. They don’t really talk about it. Klaus tried once or twice, but Ben asked him not too. It was a bad memory for him, and he had no reason to dwell on it anymore. They couldn’t change the past. Or so they had thought. 

“I’m sorry about Dave as well.”

Klaus sucks in a sharp breath at that, his heart beginning to hammer uncomfortably against his rib cage. He’s been trying not to think about the man for the past couple of days, attempting to adjust to the fact he’s gone from him now. It’s been extremely difficult, but he knows he’s got the support of his siblings this time. When Ben had died, they were all so focussed on creating new lives that they didn’t bother to comfort each other. They all went their separate ways, grieving on their own. Here, this time round, they’re trying their best. Because they’ve all lost people now. Diego lost Patch, Five lost Dolores and Allison lost her Claire. Grief connects them all now.

“It’s hard. It hurt’s so much knowing I’ll never be able to see him again. But I have nothing but fond memories and I’ll cherish the time we spend together forever,” Klaus responds softly, his eyes glistening. There’s a lot of things he regrets in his life, and despite the circumstances, meeting Dave will never be one of them. 

A comfortable silence lapses between them for a while, and they both just enjoy the new-found ability of being able to hear each other breath. 

“Hey, ben? Do me a favour?” Klaus asks after another moment, ignoring the part of his brain which was screaming at him that this was a bad idea. 

“Anything,” Ben replies instantly.

“There’s a baggie of pills in my drawer, you need to pull up the panel on the bottom. Get rid of them for me?

“…You sure?”

“Yes.”

Ben lets go of him instantly, rolling off the bed and heading straight for the drawer. He pulls the panel off, takes the pills, hides them in the safety of his closed fist. Without speaking he disappears into the toilet, and Klaus hears it flush a moment later. When he comes back into the room there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t have to look so smug,” he grouches without any real heat. He finds that now the pills are out of his reach he’s not thinking about them as much. It’s a start. A fresh one. 

Ben laughs at that. His eyes are watery again. “I’m not smug, I’m just so happy for you. Thank you for trusting me with that, I really appreciate it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

“You do know If we’re gonna properly move on we need to discuss these things in better detail?” Klaus says then.

Ben nods. “Yeah, but not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Klaus echoes, smiling slightly at the other before uncrossing his legs and lying down. 

“…Right, we’ve cried enough. It’s like one am. Either get out or come here.”

Ben doesn’t leave, not that Klaus was expecting him to anyway. Instead he crawls back into the bed and sprawls out beside him, curling in so he’s tucked into Klaus’ side. They used to sleep like this as children, chasing away each other’s nightmares about monsters and ghosts. Thirteen years later, and seven years earlier, nothing has changed. 

“Night Klaus,” Ben mumbles into his shoulder, blowing short puffs of warm air into his neck. Klaus doesn’t mind at all. 

“Night Ben,” Klaus says quietly. His life has been one big disaster after disaster, and he'll be damned if he’s ever going to let anything bad happen to the people he loves ever again. He throws an arm over his brother, pulling him close and shutting his eyes, finally letting himself drift off.

The ghosts are still there, but tonight they are silent.


End file.
